The Fight for Freedom
by Riley Clearwater
Summary: Set in Williamsburg, Virginia in late 1773, Felicity Merriman American Girl meets James of Liberty Kids Jefferson, the son of the future President...together, they decide if becoming free in a Loyalist colony is worth it
1. Default Chapter

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Ok, so this is my fanfic about two stories in one...Liberty's Kids and the American Girl series of Felicity Merriman...there's no category for the American Girl series...so i put this here, even tho it would fit better with Felicity stuff...but i had NO IDEA how to make up a new category...so sorry if this confuses you at the moment...so a few things...

1. James, for the sake of the story, is the son of Thomas Jefferson...and for the sake of the story, they live in Williamsburg...and i know that Jefferson did not have a son named James...but lets pretend...and yes, James is exactly like the one from LK...just now he has a family and instead of working in Franklin's Printing Press...he works in one at Williamsburg

2. In future chapters...it will be just like LK...different events will occur...ones leading up to the Revolutionary war and ones during the war...i hope this clears ppl up...now...just like my "England" story under Ella Enchanted book...im gonna introduce myself to you all b/c i dont want to be known as an author but as a person just like you all...so you all know what im about and why it might take me some time to update...blah blah blah...so here it goes...

I'm 18 years old...senior in high school in eastern PA....AWESOME STATE! and im totally psyched about the EAGLES GOING TO THE SUPERBOWL BABY!!! take that everyone! boo yah! anyway...im going to Indiana University of Pennsylvania in the fall to major in Interior design and minor in U.S. History...i want to do stuff on the Revolutionary War period...my favorite books are Ella Enchanted and harry potter...fav. movies...The Patriot, Eurotrip, Tommy Boy, The Goonies, among others...i love Liberty's Kids...obviously...and Friends!!! I swim for my school's swim team...this is my 6th year of swimming competitively...i love to read, hang out with friends, shop at American Eagle, listen to music including classical stuff from movie soundtracks like Nicholas Nickelby, Harry Potter, Peter Pan (2003), and The Patriot, listen to my french radio station...i just finished my French 5 class...ive been taking french since 7th grade and i love it...my favorite places in the world are Colonial Williamsburg, England, and France...and i guess thats it for now...if you ahve any questions...feel free to ask me! ENJOY EVERYONE! oh, and **_REVIEW PLEASE!_**

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**Virginia Gazette - Foreign and Domestick**

THIS DAY

Extract of a letter from Boston, Massachusetts

**December 17, 1773**

"_Local citizens have their own solution for the three British merchant ships stalled in Boston Harbor with their unwanted cargo of East India Tea Company tea. Disguised as Indians some 60 members of the Sons of Liberty boarded the three vessels one-by-one to dump their cargo of tea into the salt water of the Harbor. Unconfirmed reports spread that local activist John Hancock, Boston's richest resident, actually led the raiding party. What is certain is that the local populace enjoyed the event that began around 6 o'clock in the evening, the crowd cheering from Griffin's Wharf as 342 chests of tea were dumped. When the raiding party withdrew there was not tea remaining on any of the three ships but not one British sailor was injured in the attack, and the tea was the only cargo aboard ship that was destroyed. _

"_The importance of this single act of rebellion was not lost on the moderate politician John Adams who said, "The people should never rise without doing something to be remembered, something notable and striking. This destruction of the tea is so bold, so daring, so firm, intrepid and inflexible, and it must have important consequences." A more radical patriot leader Josiah Quincy, Jr. has predicted that the event now being called the "Boston Tea Party" will lead "to the most trying and terrific struggle this country ever saw.""_

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I sat back and stared at the freshly printed _Gazette_ in my hands; the yellowish paper still damp from the black ink. My mind was bursting with questions and I knew they should never be asked. What would father think if I began to ponder on the details of England's disapproval of the Colonies? Surely he would be furious to even know I set foot inside the Printing and Post Office to speak with James about the news for the day. "A Williamsburg lady need not know the on-goings of uproars in fellow Colonies," my mother would say while father nodded and added, "She should focus on growing to be a formidable lady."

"Felicity?" I looked up to see who had voiced my name - nay, who had caressed it. James stood by the printing press smirking at my bewilderment. His blond hair was pulled back with a black ribbon and ended about an inch below the nape of his neck. His tanned face showed signs of his hard work as an apprentice. His lean figure and muscles demonstrated his good health. His clothes, oh my, his clothes were fit for a prince. After all, James was the son of Mr. Thomas Jefferson, a member of the House of Burgesses and a favorite among Williamsburg's townspeople.

I've secretly fancied James for some time now, but because my parents are against the idea of going to war with England and becoming a separate country, it is not possible for me to voice my fancy until the flames of revolution have been extinguished. Mr. Jefferson and my father are rivals at the moment, my father on the King's side and Mr. Jefferson on the future America's side. I, myself, am on the America side as well, but nay, I may not voice that opinion either, due to the obvious. James knows of my thoughts, but is smart enough to keep them quiet.

I smiled at James and set the partially dry newsprint down on a pile forming on a table next to the printing press. "Well, father will like this," I said with a small laugh, motioning towards the drying Gazettes.

"He means well," James commented, continuing with his work.

"Aye, that he does!" I whispered with such loathing I could feel my fists clench. "Does he not see the limitations King George is putting on us? I don't believe I've heard him complain once about the fact that he must pay extra for the English tea shipments. Is he not upset about that?"

"He's just loyal to his country and his king, Felicity," James preached to me. "After all, he did serve the king as a red coat for fifteen years."

"Dash the red coats!" my fifteen-year-old ignorance showing through. "They're the reason Boston is so divided. The Boston Massacre set that town's colonials on fire. No one up there trust the British, why should we?" James's mouth turned up in a crooked smile, exposing a few white teeth and dimples. "What?" I demanded. He always confused me. What was so funny about the Boston Massacre?

"You surprise me Felicity Merriman," he said simply before turning back to his printing press just as Mr. Sanders, the Printing and Post Office owner, walked through the front door. I hid my smile and greeted Mr. Sanders.

"My dear Felicity!" he said cheerfully. "How does your family fare this fine morning?"

"They are fine, thank you sir. My father sent me to buy some ink from you for the shop. He seems to be running low and the next shipment shall not arrive for another week," I replied in an equally jovial tone. Mr. Sanders was one of the nicest men in town. Not a small fellow, Mr. Sanders reminded me somewhat of St. Nicholas with his round tummy and white beard.

"Well then, let's not keep Mr. Merriman waiting," he exclaimed and walked behind the front counter where a row of shelves held supplies such as paper, quills, and stamps. The ink was in a small basket near the bottom of the row. "How about ten packages? That should hold Edward Merriman until his shipment gets here…if it gets here."

"Sir?"

"Well, from what I hear, Boston Harbor will be closed down as punishment for the Tea Party," he whispered to me, happy to pass on some gossip. Mr. Sanders was a key member in the loop of information and he surely enjoyed the attention he received from the town because of it.

"Peyton Randolph said the same thing to me when I passed his home this morning on my way here," added James. "Sounds like this might last a while from what he told me."

"Better let your father know, Miss Felicity. We can't have him run low on ink and count on me to always have some in stock," suggested Mr. Sanders.

"Yes, thank you. How much do I owe you Mr. Sanders?" I asked, pulling out my coin purse.

"Six pounds." I passed him the money, put the ink packages in my basket, and turned for the door.

"Oh! Miss Felicity!" cried Mr. Sanders. I spun around and motioned for him to continue. "My wife asked that you would attend our son's sixteenth birthday ball on Saturday. Here, I have an invitation for you." He passed me the folded parchment, bade me farewell, and headed into the back room to get back to work.

I eyed the invitation and reminisced about Mr. Sanders's son, Nathan. You would think the son of the nicest man in town would be sweeter than the honey they sell in the market. Not Nathan Sanders. That boy was insufferable. He's been after me since I was twelve and I punched him in the nose for saying I was a girly-girl. I always tried to avoid him at all costs, but this time I couldn't refuse. Mr. and Mrs. Sanders have always been kind to me and as a noble lady, I needed to return the favor and accept their invitation.

I looked up to James. He was working on the press again. He set another sheet aside before speaking up. "I was invited as well. Although, I'm not too sure I want to celebrate the birth of a boy I don't enjoy."

"You must! You cannot leave me alone with him!" I cried. He started to chuckle, a low laugh that made my stomach squirm.

"It would be rather funny if he was hanging on you all night. Perhaps I shall go…"

"James Jefferson, you are intolerable!" I cried before storming out of the Printing and Post Office and onto the dusty paths of Duke of Gloucester street.


	2. Father's General Store

**Okay, so here's the new chapter...well, im glad some of you like this...but i guess i need to explain more...**

**1. in addition to the other explainations...Felicity is older in my stories...for the sake of 9yr olds dont fall in love too often**

**2. Mr. Merriman is going to be a loyalist...to kinda keep to the Liberty Kids theme...even tho Felicity isnt really a loyalist like Sarah is...but this is also to create some problems Felicity must overcome...prolly will play out better in future chapters...you'll see**

**3. im trying to keep this story historically correct...so if things dont match up with either stories, it's b/c its supposed to seem more like historical fact...and if i get things wrong, let me know...but make sure ur right before you tell me im retarded and when i looked stuff up on COLONIAL WILLIAMSBURG's site, i was remiss in my duties as a good reader**

**ok, so i think thats it...if you have more questions...give em to me!**

**enjoy all...thanks for reviewing...please do so again...**

**RiLeY**

**P.S. i didnt proof read this chapter...im too tired right now so ill do it later...if you find incorrect grammar or incomplete words...sorry**

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**Chapter Two – **_Father's General Store_

Duke of Gloucester street is the main road in Williamsburg and, likewise, the busiest. Even as the winter solstice approaches, villagers bustle in and out of the various stores and taverns. The building to the right of the Printing and Post Office, Dubois Grocer, is especially busy. Mrs. Dubois must have had her baby last night; evident by the number of ladies swarming the steps of the shop and greeting Mr. Dubois with their congratulations.

I smile and continue on my way, away from Mr. Dubois's Grocery Store, towards my father's general store. My silk covered shoes leave footprints in the frozen dirt scattered on the street. Every once in a while, a slight breeze would slip up my skirts, igniting my instinct to shiver. Despite my woolen cloak, seven petticoats, and woolen stockings, the blustery weather still bit at my person. Oh! How I despise the winter season.

Crossing Colonial Street, I can see Mr. Tucker exiting the Prentis Store, another general store like my father's. Mr. Prentis specializes in goods manufactured in the colonies. Father imports many of his goods from England; however, he does sell colonial made furniture and groceries. Mr. Tucker lives across the street from us on Palace Street. Given that he is for independence, he does not favor father very much, yet he is kind to father and the rest of my family. His daughter, Mary is my most faithful friend and companion. We do almost everything together.

"Good Morning Miss Felicity!" called out Mr. Tucker while tipping his three-cornered hat in greeting.

"Good Morning Mr. Tucker," I said as I hurried to catch up to him. He bowed his head slightly when I reached him and I returned it with a curtsy. He motioned for me to continue down Duke of Gloucester street with him. "Sir, how does Mary fair today?" I asked about my friend as we continued our walk. She had been ill with a slight cold for the past two days and I was worried for her health.

"Her health improves dear child. I have no doubt that she will be out riding her horse within the hour. She asked for you yesterday, but my wife did not want to endanger your health as well."

"That was thoughtful of Mrs. Tucker. I've truly missed Mary these past few days and I will do my best to stop by your home after midday," I told him, hoping he would not object.

"No, I'm afraid that will not do," he said, clasping his hands behind his back in a stance of authority. "But," he started. I looked up expectantly before he continued, "I, and I'm sure my wife and Mary, would much rather you come by for the midday meal. That is, if it is all right with your parents," he finished with a smile.

"I think father and mother will be glad to hear of my invitation and will allow me to visit the Tucker household. It would be a pleasure Mr. Tucker," I replied with enthusiasm. I noticed we had reached my father's store at the corner of Duke of Gloucester and Palace Street.

"Very well. We shall see you at noon then?" He nodded in farewell before tuning up Palace Street, toward his home. I watched him walk away from me, along-side the frozen grounds of the Palace Green, behind which stood the Governor's Palace; a magnificent building one block up from my house. As I gazed at the immense residence, the ornate iron gates closed after a fancy carriage, most likely carrying the governor, passed through into the protective fortress.

I turned back to father's store, and made my way to the front door, over which hung a wooden sign emblazoned with a cargo ship and the words: Greenhow General Store. My mother's father was the founder of the store and _the_ Mr. John Greenhow. When my father married my mother, he promised my grandfather he would carry on the business for him once he retires. Father has been running grandfather's store for five years now.

It is a fair job for him, yet sometimes it keeps him away from home. Once every month, he travels to Philadelphia to export and import goods for the store. It just so happens that he is taking his leave tomorrow for his voyage north, meaning I get to spend more time in the Printing and Post Office this week. A smile grew on my face as I glided through the door, causing a small bell to alert my father that someone had entered the shop.

"Ah, Miss Merriman! So nice to see you again," greeted father in a jovial tone of voice. He always played this game with me, where he would pretend I was a customer in his store. "Here to buy a new ribbon for your Christmas gown? I suggest blue. From what Miss Margaret Hunter told me this morning when I entered her store, blue is the newest fashion."

I was idling by the packages of cards, cotton and wood dolls, and some wooden hoops; in short, the fascinating toys of my father's shop. I looked to his face to see a knowing smile. "Father, what were you doing in the Millinery shop? You have no shirts needing adjustments or mending. Surely you do not mean to buy a gown for yourself!" I finished with laughter. Father chuckled right along with me, walking out from behind his counter. Besides the fact the he is loyal to the Crown, he is a kind and good-hearted man. Father could always cheer me up, unless of course, if he was ranting about the patriots.

"Well, little miss," he replied using my childhood nickname, "It just so happens that I bought you a gown for the Governor's Christmas Ball."

"Oh father!" I cried running into his outstretched arms. He walked briskly behind his counter and returned with a newspaper-covered box. He handed the package to me and I swiftly began ripping off the wrapping; becoming more and more excited every second. I tore off the box lid and let my eyes fall upon my new gift. I let out a cry of glee as I gazed at the wonderful gown.

It was made of royal blue silk, probably the finest from England, with a white lace stomacher, and lace trimmed sleeves that flared out slightly at the elbow. All in all, the gown was the most beautiful piece of clothing I've ever seen. This would surely enhance my appearance and please both the Governor and the Governess.

"Well go try it on silly! Run on home to your mother and show her! Oh! I have a better idea!" father said grabbing my shoulders to stop me from running out the shop door. "Why don't you put it on here and _wear_ it through town and surprise your mother?" I nodded before he scurried me off to the back storeroom to change.

Slipping off my old, dark green day dress, I picked up the new fashionable gown. I checked my stays to make sure they were still tied tightly and finally, I pulled on my new Christmas dress. The silk fabric clung to my body and accentuated every womanly curve of my person. Luckily, my father knows I don't enjoy the newest fashion from France, where they claim a low cut bodice is the height of style right now.

I smoothed out the wrinkles in the skirt and walked back into the main front room of the shop where father was checking out Mr. Patrick Henry. Even though he is known to be a radical patriot, he is still a kind man to father and every other loyalist. He smiled at me as I waltzed towards him grinning, my silky skirt swishing with every step.

"Mr. Henry," I acknowledged with a curtsy.

"Miss Felicity, as always, you look wonderful," he replied civilly. I turned to glance at father to see a spark of pride in his eyes as he looked on. I snapped him out of it when I handed him his package from Mr. Sanders.

"Ah, yes, the ink I asked for. Thank you Miss Merriman," he cheerfully stated, placing the packages on a shelf under his counter he was standing behind. "Now run along home and show your mother your new gown."

"Thank you again father," I glanced at Patrick Henry and nodded to him saying, "Mr. Henry."

"A pleasure, Miss Felicity," he said grinning. I stepped out onto the main street again, this time, facing the Governor's Palace. Just as I was beginning to walk towards the palace and my home, I heard someone call my name. I turned around to see who it was, it wasn't James, but it certainly was someone important!

"Miss Felicity!" It was Patrick Henry. When he reached me, we were standing next to Bruton Parish Church, on the corner of Duke of Gloucester and Palace Street.

"Forgive my forwardness, but Mr. Thomas Jefferson told me you are a patriot. Does he speak true?" He sounded eager for my response. My eyes darted to all the townspeople walking by us, staring at us conversing in the middle of the road.

I felt so strange, standing there on the main street where everyone could see me in my eye catching royal blue gown speaking with one of the most influential men of Williamsburg. I looked down at the ground, afraid he would create a scene; causing father to come outside to investigate.

"Do you wish to go somewhere more private?" He suggested. I nodded and he held out his arm. I gracefully accepted it and together, we walked further down Duke of Gloucester, past the grand Bruton Parish Church, and in the direction of Hartwell Perry's Tavern. Given that it was late morning, the only customers that were there, were waiting for a midday meal, meaning no drunkards were present. Upon seeing Mr. Henry, the host bustled to an out of the way space and beckoned us to it once he was finished cleaning it up.

I followed Mr. Henry into the secluded room where he pulled out a chair for me before taking his own seat. As was custom, I waited for him to speak to me first. It took him a while to realize what I was waiting for, then suddenly, he cleared his throat and said, "Same question Miss Felicity. Speak freely." His gaze intensified, boring into my skull, forcing me to answer.

"I shall speak not a lie. I am a patriot, Mr. Henry," I said simply. He grinned from ear to ear before commenting.

"Welcome to the Revolution Miss Merriman. Now, I have an important question for you." He waited to see my expression but my facial features didn't change. "What do you know about being a spy?"


	3. Benjamin Harrison

**Chapter Three** – _Benjamin Harrison_

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"My honest reply Mr. Henry? Off the record books?" I asked, not missing a beat.

"Naturally."

"Nothing." His face fell at my answer and he reached for the nearest bartender and proceeded to order a double whiskey on the rocks.

"Well, then, Miss Merriman, it has been a pleasure. I'm sure you will mention none of this to your father."

"You did not let me finish Mr. Henry," I started. His drink arrived, but instead of drinking up, Patrick Henry leaned closer, intrigued. "I was not lying before when I said I know nothing about spying, but I do know I enjoy a good challenge. And I'm sure learning the tricks of a spy is among the toughest of challenges." He nodded, encouraging me to continue, his eyes not leaving mine. "What have you to offer besides the thrill of going behind my father's back and serving the noble cause?"

"Your freedom and better yet, everyone else's," he replied quietly, but with such intensity it gave me goose bumps.

"Good enough for me." Patrick Henry finished his drink in one gulp, stood, promised to be in touch shortly, and left as quickly as my little sister Nan can run – and she won the town fair's 100-meter dash.

Leaving Hartwell Perry's tavern, I continued home to wash up before midday meal with Mary and her family. Once I stepped up the first step to our door, momma came running out from the south gate entrance. She was most likely hanging Christmas garlands on the fence in the south gardens. She was obviously about to scold me for not coming home straight away from my errands that morning, but upon seeing my new dress, she ran over and squealed with delight.

"Oh Lissie! It's beautiful! You're father told me he got you a present for the Governor's Ball but he did not say what it was. Do you like it?"

"Not at all!" She frowned at my reply, but she saw my lips begin to curve into a smile. "I love it!" She nodded in agreement before ushering me toward the front door.

I looked up at our brick covered house. It was one of the larger homes in Williamsburg, as both of my parents are prominent members of society and well liked. It is of a rectangle shape, two floors with four rooms on each, all with their own fireplace. Once inside the door, my mother pushed me from the foyer through the hallway to the backdoor.

"Let's take it off and have Tippy wash and press it so it's ready for the party," she ordered referring to one of our maids. Tippy was the head of the slaves on our property and the most loved by the entire Merriman family. I shan't ever forget the time she caught me playing with Abigail, her daughter, and Mary in the muddy swamp in the woods behind the pasture. She wore out her paddle on all of us that day.

Granted, I did not learn anything from that experience. I was in that same swamp the very next week. However, I remembered not to let Tippy catch me whence I came home.

I told momma about my encounter with Mr. Tucker and his invitation. She told me to wash up out back and change to a more formal gown instead of my everyday frock.

Jumping down the steps and into the back of our property, I saw Nan, my nine year old sister, trying to teach William, my six year old brother, to make snow angels on the arbor. It is a sort of shaded area at the back of our property where we normally sit and relax. Instead of walking straight, through the pleasure gardens towards my siblings, I turned right to make my way to the north well. There, I found Ben, my father's apprentice. As today was Wednesday, Ben had off. I saw this as his chance to prepare before he had to run the store for a week while father was away in Philadelphia.

"Good day Lissie," he said upon seeing me galloping like a child toward the well. "Seems like you are in a cheerful mood."

"I get to eat midday meal with Mary and her family today!" I shouted before pulling up the bucket and pouring cool water into my hands and scrubbing the dirt off my face. I yelped in surprise at the freezing water.

"Have you not noticed that Old Man Winter has come, Lissie?" called Ben from his place in the stables where he was tending to his horse, Eagle. He always liked to make it quite clear that he was smarter than I.

"Actually, I was just shouting to see if you would come to my rescue. Such a pity you are not the knight in shining armor you claim to be!" I shouted before hurrying back into the warmth of the house, leaving behind a confused Ben.

Once inside, I headed to my room on the second floor. At the top of the stairs, I turned left and headed into the first room I came to. My room faced southwest and from my windows, I could see Bruton Parish Church on the left and the backyard.

I headed to my armoire and pulled out my linen maroon petticoat and a flower-embroidered chemise. Mother always said the maroon made my strawberry brown hair shine. After getting dressed, I ran downstairs to say good-bye to mother. I found her in the parlor singing my three-year-old sister, Polly, to sleep.

"Oh Lissie, I asked Ben to take you to the Tucker's. He'll be waiting for you outside."

"Mother, I'm not a little girl anymore," I whispered forcefully. "I can walk there myself."

"Quite right you are. You are not a little girl anymore. You are a grown lady of fifteen and you shan't travel alone anymore. Now, do not keep Mary and her family waiting. I'll see you whence you come home, and be ready to tell me all about it."

I sighed in defeat before mumbling, "Yes mother," and setting off to find Ben. He was outside, leaning against the garden fence, polishing off a sweet roll. He brushed his hands on his pants before offering me his arm with a barely audible, "milady."

We walked in silence until we crossed the street. "So who will be present for your midday meal?" Ben asked.

"Mary, her mother and father, and her snooty sister Annabelle," I answered, with a noticeable amount of loathing at the last name. Ben chuckled and patted my hand.

"Some animosity towards Miss Annabelle, Lissie?"

"She's constantly saying she's more beautiful, more powerful, and more wealthier than I. And she says my freckles are disgraceful and they chase away all the boys." I was starting to think she was right, since the only boys who do more than talk to me are Ben and James. The rest simply say good day in passing, or ask for a dance at special gatherings. Nothing out of the ordinary though.

"Now, Lissie. You cannot believe that is true," Ben said, stopping in front of the Tucker house and looking down to me.

"Well, I don't see any boys jumping at the chance to see me. But they surely jump to see Annabelle." I started to look down at my feet but Ben's hand caught my chin. He ran his thumb over my chin then pressed his palm against my cheek. I leaned into the warmth from his hand and closed my eyes.

"Maybe they don't have to jump. Maybe they're tall enough." I opened my eyes and gazed into Ben's green ones, never faltering. "Besides, Annabelle's teeth are much too big for me." I laughed at his comment, but appreciated it all the same. He removed his hand from my cheek, smiled, and kissed my hand before leaving. As he was crossing Palace Street, he turned and shouted over his shoulder, "I'll be back in an hour and thirty. Enjoy yourself Lissie!"

"Miss Merra'man, so nice t' see you 'gain." I turned around to see Gordon, the Tucker's house slave, standing at the open front door

"Good day Gordon," I said, walking into the warm house.

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Well...there ya go..I hope you liked it...PLEASE REVIEW!

Until next time,

RiLeY


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